Reclaiming his Heart
by GalaxySong
Summary: Persuasion from Cpt. Wentworth's point of view and hopefully will continue past the novels end.
1. Chapter 1

Reclaiming his Heart

Captain Fredrick Wentworth eyed the shore as his ship was propelled toward the docks. The sea that gently lapped against the sides had been his home for eight years. The last time he had stood on those docks he was a man with a whole career in front of him full of determination to make his worth in the world, but besides all that he had stood there a man with a broken heart.

He had turned to the sea as a means of escape; his heart and head were divorced for a spell. His heart remained in England – specifically at Kellynch Hall, or at least bits and pieces were lost there. His head didn't know what to make of the recent turn of events. As he boarded that first ship after… well her… he had no idea what course of action to take. Part of him wanted to make something of himself – to become the man that she was expected to marry. The other part – the hurting part told him to never risk the "Elliot pride" again.

Instead he stayed away. He made his fortune and his name in the wars, along with many other men and was offered the chance to return a hero – the wealthy victors over the French. That was how he came to be standing at the bow of the ship as it entered the harbor. His attitude differed greatly from his crew, they longed for shore for loved ones or some of the other benefits shore has to a sailor. Not him. He dreaded his return to her world though he doubted they would ever cross paths again. He was resolute to never tempt his heart again on Anne Elliot- it had taken eight years to put all the pieces back together again and he was not certain they would hold fast.

Wentworth reread the neat script again as the carriage thundered along. His sister's words were well known to him by now but certain phrases still caught him in disbelief. Three days ago he had sworn to avoid the source of all his years of misery and longing yet at this very moment he was racing towards the rooms that had once been her home. His sister assured him that that family had quit the estate for a life in Bath. Indeed their main source of company was a family that lived nearby at Uppercross; the Musgroves were determined to welcome them in to the neighborhood. To be so near the location where so many substantial events had occurred was numbing for Wentworth. _At least I will not have to face her, in that at least there is luck, and I doubt anyone will remember the acquaintance. _His thoughts comforted him as carriage entered the country and familiar parks began to appear. His sister knew little of the incident only that he had been acquainted with one of the Elliot sisters of which there were three. She had been out of the country at that time and had only recently returned on the Admiral's retirement. She had married a seaman who had enjoyed the fortune that he too had made in the wars. They had heard that Kellynch Hall as for lease and having found the neighborhood suitable decided to take it. Upon hearing that he was soon to give up his military life and settle down they had written to him immediately and invited him to join them in their new home as he reentered society. He had written his confirmation and dates before he had realized the implications of his stay. He honestly did not know what to do if they had chanced an encounter. If his sister's letter proved reliable he had a while to contemplate that event. For now however he turned his thoughts to far more pleasant thoughts as the carriage neared its destination.

It was only as Wentworth turned in that night that he dared allow himself to process the night's events. His sister had initially been misinformed, the Musgroves were closely acquainted to the Elliot's, and indeed the youngest daughter had married in to the family. Even more troubling was the news that her sister joined her for a visit while the rest of the family settled in Bath. Wentworth knew- even without his sister relaying the lady's name that it was her. His sister had recalled the acquaintance and had mentioned it to the lady in passing she told him. Indeed his sister delivered a glowing review of Miss Anne Elliot. Now a meeting seemed utterly inevitable and fast approaching. As the sun began to rise the next morning Captain Fredrick Wentworth was still no closer to a manner to greet the woman who had captured and broken his heart.

He managed to postpone their likely meeting a week, finally resolving himself to greet her as a casual acquaintance. He was faced with a sudden spell of overwhelming curiosity and desire to see her again, to just stand in her presence and look upon her. As he dressed to dine at the Grand House at Uppercross he was full of warring emotions at being once again in her company. His eyes searched the party that had assembled for dinner with apprehension. She was not among them. She was avoiding him. Whether this last part was true it was what he held true, this realization consumed him until he was shaken from his thoughts by a conversation. Charles Musgrove, the eldest living son, the one who married Mary Elliot was apologizing for his sister-in-laws absence. As it had happened one of Charles and Mary's young boys had fallen and dislocated his shoulder and that Anne had offered to stay behind to tend to the boy's needs. Even in his state of mind he could not ignore his familiarity with her character, her overwhelming desire to put others before herself. Of course she had remained behind. Even this acknowledgment as not enough to quell the pang he felt for the first time in very long time.

Having already steeled himself for their meeting the night before it was easy for Wentworth to talk himself in to accompanying the Miss Musgroves and Charles to their cottage before a day of shooting. The apprehension of when and where they would meet had cheated him out of another night of sleep, but he rallied himself, soon his misery would end. She would be there. He was certain of it as he walked towards the cottage. He strained his ears to hear her voice his eyes taking in everything- hoping to catch a glimpse of her before she saw him. It was not until he was inside the same noisy house that he saw her. Charles had run on ahead at his insistence to warn them of their arrival so she had prepared herself as best she could.

She was as she ever was. He had wondered whether he would know her, but in that moment he was certain that he would always be able to remember that face. As he approached though he saw the change. The happiness and humor that had always been in her face was gone, it had not been seen in years. The beauty was still there yet it seemed more worn, the youth had gone faster than it should have and in its place it had left a person who had been aged by hardship and … pain. Her pain was undeniable as she caught his eyes in the first few moments, it faded as the others joined them instead she wore a calm and reserved mask. The few minutes they spent together seemed to last an hour. A curtsy prompted a bow and they stood in each others presence only stealing glances at one another, neither dared speak, and then suddenly it was over.

He was outside the cottage and she was gone. The moment that had tormented him was over. He had seen her and was left with a realization. He did not love her anymore. His heart was safe. This had left him with another realization - he had not forgiven her, not even after all this time. They had loved each other with such an attachment that neither had ever known before. They longed to be married and were engaged, but society - more importantly her connections did not approve. The match was not prudent had been the claim, she was the daughter of a baronet and he was without fortune or anything to recommend him. Thus she was a set upon and persuaded by her most trusted friend and advisor to forgo Wentworth and oblige others. She had done so at cost to herself and to his heart. He could not forgive the way that she had used him and the feebleness she had shown in her own matters of the heart. Her appearance had suffered for it the years apart; he guessed where the sorrow and weariness stemmed from.

He remarked to the others that she appeared to be much changed; his words were cruel yet he never intended to cause her pain. The pain he had lived with was fading, it was replaced with determination to start a new. His heart was his again though he did not plan for it remain as such for long. Captain Fredrick Wentworth had resolved himself to find a wife.


	2. Chapter 2

Wentworth took advantage of the pause in the conversation to steal a gulp of his wine. Its potency had little effect on his warring mind as he surveyed the company. Henrietta and Louisa were sat next to him, for the past hour they had been questioning him on all matters of naval life. Their ignorance was expected, instead it was far too reminiscent of Anne's own limited knowledge of a sailor's life.

The memory forced him to glance at the woman in question. She sat on the edge of the part close to his own sister and Mrs. Musgrove, her aged appearance and mature demeanor were shunned by her young cousins who sought the company of adventure over reason. Their eyes met for a second; even as he turned away he knew she was recollecting the same memory. He glanced once more and this time he caught one of her smiles for a second his heart soared before he realized it was not a smile for him. She smiled for others, as she always did. She smiled to comfort Mrs. Musgrove he imagined, his presence reminded her of a son she had lost. Suddenly she was Anne that he knew and loved, the one full of life and beauty. Then the smile was gone and the moment passed. Henrietta and Louisa had fetched a Navy List and he smiled and surveyed it looking for familiar names and ships.

So the evening passed and Wentworth did not have a second to spare until Mrs. Musgrove exclaimed once more remembering her late son, Robert. He sensed her pain and despite his personal opinion of her son he sought to comfort the matronly woman. He left the young people to sit on the same couch as Mrs. Musgrove and Anne Elliot. This was the first time that they had been so close and he could not escape glancing at her. Again she knew his thoughts as he recollected the positives of his association with her son to Mrs. Musgrove. She comforted the woman silently and tried to hide herself from being a focus as much as possible.

The Admiral's approach could not have come at a worse time. Wentworth was still in conversation with the grieving woman when his bellow interrupted them. Wentworth was distinctly reminded of Anne's presence as his brother-in-law spoke.

"If you had been a week later at Lisbon, last spring, Frederick, you would have been asked to give a passage to Lady Mary Grierson and her daughters." Wentworth cringed at the thought voiced his distaste at a woman's presence at sea. This drew his sister in to the conversation as she recollected her life on board a man of war. Wentworth did not dare a glance at Anne as she listened to the conversation, instead he defended himself against the couples claims that when he marries he will understand.

"Now I have done," cried Captain Wentworth. "When once married people begin to attack me with,-`Oh! you will think very differently, when you are married.' I can only say, `No, I shall not;' and then they say again, `Yes, you will,' and there is an end of it." His word signaled his retreat as he moved once more towards the younger members of the party.

The conversation had struck too close twice. Both were a result of Miss Elliot. The first was according to his vow to never be persuaded away from what he believed, as she had. The second was a reaction to vision he once had of her- the wife of a naval officer, an image so like the one he had just scorned. He paused a moment giving in to a forgotten fancy before pushing it from his thoughts and returning more present matters.

Wentworth resolved himself to spend the rest of the evening in high spirits and kept to it mainly. Maintaining the expression was made indefinitely easier by the call for dancing. He did not notice who supplied the music until one of the steps brought him closer to the pianoforte. He seized the opportunity to observe her, he took in her altered state and the sorrow that inhabited her face so much of the time when she felt she was unobserved. He had spoken to his partner before he had even realized' "Does Miss Elliot not dance?".

The response was as he predicted- she never danced, her only luxury was in supplying the music for others without protest or pause. Wentworth could only nod and return his focus to his pretty partner as they moved away from the lady in question.

Their paths crossed again once more at the end of the evening. The dancers had taken many of the available seats to rest from the activity of the night. Chance had led to him to seat himself on the vacant bench of the instrument. She had been seeking to retreat from the focus of company and that brought her before him. His head and heart regretted his actions immediately as he stiffly offered her the seat back and refused her pleas for him to sit as she backed away. She was gone before he regained his senses and he knew his distant tone had cut her. Still standing he resolved himself to learn what fully had driven the sweet, lively, beautiful girl that had once been Anne Elliot to her present state. He needed to know… he told himself, to be able to put her fully behind him.


	3. Chapter 3

Reclaiming His Heart

Wentworth paid the view the window before him offered no mind. Every muscle in his body stiffened as he realized the situation he had gallantly waltzed in to, for the first time in seven years he found himself nearly alone with Miss Anne Elliot. He had been at Kellynch Hall for weeks but he had carefully navigated any encounters like this with her – until now. Her presence had caught him off guard, and once again he regretted his brain's course of action. He had dumbly explained that he was told the Miss Musgroves were to have been there before retreating to the window he now stood before. Her face was as startled as his – she must have remained behind while the others went to breakfast to look after the young boy still recovering from his fall.

"They are upstairs with my sister: they will be down in a few moments, I dare say" was her reply after a few moments. He heard the rustle of her skirts and he braced himself for her flight, she would try to spare him, and herself, the pain of the moment. However her escape was prevented by the child's pleas for some service.

Wentworth struggled to find something to say, he might not get another opportunity to speak to her so intimately, to acknowledge just how acquainted they once were, but he knew that would only hurt them more. "I hope the little boy is better" was all he said as he sunk in to silence.

He could hear her motions as she knelt to attend to the child and her soft whispers to try and amuse him, the boy's weak laughter at one of her musings. He did not need to turn around to picture the scene that went on for several minutes. He only finally turned when he heard another enter the room. Unfortunately it was not Henrietta and Louisa as he had hoped, instead they were joined by Charles Hayter. Wentworth had only recently been acquainted with Charles Hayter and his knowledge was limited to knowing him to be a cousin of the family and Henrietta's intended.

Anne's attempt to get both of her unexpected visitors to sit down as the awaited the other ladies arrival prompted Wentworth to leave his window and attempt conversation with the new addition. Yet his advancement was short lived as Charles Hayter unfolded the day's paper instead.

The silence only lasted a minute as they gained another unexpected arrival, this time in the form of a young boy of two who was determined to have his share in any amusement being provided for his sickly brother. Anne's refusal to allow him to tease her patient only caused him to turn his attentions towards her as fastened himself to her as she attempted to work. Her pleas turned commands without any relinquishment from the boy. Wentworth listened as Charles merely admonished the boy without any move to help Anne. When he finally turned to witness the scene he resolved to step in. The few strides that had separated them were crossed quickly as he detached the young child from his grip around her neck. Their eyes met as she was finally able to straighten. He heard her try to give her thanks but they were drowned out by Wentworth's own attempts to console the boy. He saw her return to her patient and he focused on his own charge now as he attempted to engage the child. They continued on this way until they were finally joined by the rest of the ladies who assumed the care of both the children. He glanced up in time to see her slip out of the room as the other ladies surrounded the sofa, no one else had even seen her go. For the first time he realized his own arrival was likely just as painful for her as it was for him, a realization that left him with another – he did not want to hurt her.


	4. Chapter 4

**Author's note- Sorry sorry sorry sorry times a billion. *Insert details of life that seemingly make a two year hiatus plausible and forgivable* **

Reclaiming His Heart - Chapter 4

The days passed slowly at Kellynch Hall for Wentworth, the company of Louisa and Henrietta were amusing, their exuberance filled the waking hours with a means of diversion. He had also realized that they might offer something beyond their pleasing manners. The sisters also possessed the intimate knowledge of a certain Elliot sister. He could not exactly say what he hoped to learn, he was certain nothing relating to his own interaction with her would be relayed but he still made small inquiries whenever the conversation presented the chance. It did not often materialize, as affectionate as they were of their relation, her own character did not afford much gossip, one of their favorite past times. Wentworth was often among the company of the residents of Uppercross, including the lady in question, quite often. The Admiral and his sister were settling in to the neighborhood with relative ease, the inhabitants were a little wary of having a military man gracing the halls of gentility, they seemed to grow more welcoming once the fear of social calamity at every course of the meal had passed.

Wentworth reentered society reluctantly, he had never moved with particular ease or grace among circles, his years at sea had not improved his talent for pleasant conversation. She... Miss Elliot... had been the first person not within the ranks of the navy or his family that he had felt capable of articulation for any period with. After he had quitted her sphere he found he was improved at least a manner in his speech. For this he was grateful, though he would never grant her credit, not even to himself.

He applied his improved wit to those within his graces, for her he still had no words beyond what curtsey offered. He would much rather offer his conversation to his charming acquaintances. Charles proved to be fair shooting partner and they often indulged in the sport when the weather permitted. Charles also proved to be a reputable source about his sister, always doting and on occasion the one who noticed her absence after frequent retreats. Wentworth thought no more of it until one such outing revealed the piece of history he had been blindly seeking.

The hunt proved fruitless, cut short by an untrained pup that had spoiled their prospects. The party was returning to the cottage in search of some other amusement when they happened upon the ladies embarking on their own adventure. The gentlemen's offer of companionship was eagerly accepted and Henrietta and Louisa were appointed the leaders though they raised Wentworth to their ranks by calling on him to lend them his arm. That left Mary to take to her husband's with such urgency one might mistake her as an invalid, and Anne quietly accepted the remaining limb when it was offered. Wentworth was surprised she did not offer some excuse or patient that would keep her from accompanying, but dismissed it quickly as he was engaged in several conversations.

The destination or intent remained unspoken for a spell as they strolled the paths and landscape surrounding the estate, the conversations rarely crossed between the two groups as they walked. They did not go entirely unnoticed however, Mary and Charles appeared to be speaking heatedly in what they must of considered hush tones, the conversation between the girls and himself drifted from naval life to the latest happenings to the activities of particular individuals. His contribution was to relate the Admiral and his Sister's plan for a day of riding, he had noticed the silence of one of his companions, forgotten by the others, even when she did break her silence.

The six had just finished their climb up a sizable hill when the destination was presented, a small estate sprawled out from the opposing face of the hill, conversation informed him that this was Winthrop, with the chief importance of being the home of Charles Haytar whose name Wentworth had learned was linked to Henrietta's. This revelation sent Mrs. Musgrove in to a spell which inspired a heated discussion as to their course of action.

The resolution to which was the decision that Charles and Henrietta could not come so close and not pay their respects to their cousin, while the rest of the party would remain to accommodate Mary's sudden onset of fatigue. The pair had barely disappeared from view before he was claimed again by Louisa who persuaded him to walk amongst the grove. The did not manage to escape Mary's rapid recovery and attempt to protest any damage the bad connection of the Haytar's had inflicted on her own impressive lineage. The sudden slash of the familial pride prompted him to glance in Her direction, a faint blush and unspoken defenses were her only reaction. A quiet murmur with a mention of some other enticement ended the scene as She directed her sister's attention elsewhere releasing the couple to explore the grove in peace.

Louisa directed the conversation and direction as she leaped from topic, their path had opened to a view of the distant home when she began to speak of her own sister, intent on relaying her triumph at convincing Henrietta to face her intended and bemoaning her tend to bow to the influence of others even at the expense of herself and reason. The conversation turned to assure Wentworth this was not a flaw she herself possessed, the subject doing much of the assuring herself. An assertion that was unnecessary, Wentworth had long recognized the stubbornness and assurance of her character, Louisa Musgrove was not one to bow to persuasion.

His admiration for this trait and her companionship bade him to speak with more gravity and with a manner so unlike the one he normally held. "Your sister is an amiable creature; but yours is the character of decision and firmness, I see. If you value her conduct or happiness, infuse as much of your own spirit into her as you can. But this, no doubt, you have been always doing. It is the worst evil of too yielding and indecisive a character, that no influence over it can be depended on. You are never sure of a good impression being durable; everybody may sway it. Let those who would be happy be firm..." Their pace had slowed to a halt though there was still plenty of path, instead they faced one another, My first wish for all whom I am interested in, is that they should be firm. If Louisa Musgrove would be beautiful and happy in her November of life, she will cherish all her present powers of mind." His reward was a soft laugh, they resumed their pace as a pause in the conversation settled upon them, his companion silently considering his words.

When she did speak again it was prompted by the sight of Mary off in the distance that elicited her remarks "Mary is good-natured enough in many respects," said she; "but she does sometimes provoke me excessively, by her nonsense and pride-the Elliot pride. She has a great deal too much of the Elliot pride. We do so wish that Charles had married Anne instead. I suppose you know he wanted to marry Anne?"

Wentworth's surprise prompted him to move before her, and bringing them again to a halt, He bid his heart to cease the pounding it had begun at her mention, choosing his words carefully he asked- "Do you mean that she refused him?"

"Oh! yes: certainly" Her response prompted another question from him regarding when the events had taken place, to which she did not know exactly, but believed it was a year before he married Mary. She continued on about how Anne would have been better received, though the words were lost on Wentworth, that is until he heard a familiar name. Lady Russell. The woman whose influence on Anne had ended her affection for him had worked against another ill-fated suitor. Many of the interactions Wentworth had witnessed took on new meanings with this information, namely the affection of certain individuals.

Wentworth's mind struggled for a suitable reaction, it explained the reason the years had altered Anne as they had, but it also reinforced the weakness of her character that he so despised, it had claimed another victim besides himself. With half a heart he tried to picture her happy in her sister's place of honor, a husband and children to dote on, a home of her own, but the image was fake even to his eyes. Charles Musgrove had loved Anne Elliot, desired to marry her, and he had been hurt, but not as Fredrick had. That realization had prompted another... _She had loved Charles, but not in the same way, and perhaps it did not require the same persuasion. _He conceded she would have been happy with him, but perhaps not as much as she would have been with...another. _Then why would she deny herself happiness no matter how small, surely it is better than solitude? Why would she condemn herself to spinsterhood ? Unless... _She still held on to hope. She still loved him. She loved him after all these years and she was punishing herself for it.

_She still loves me_

In that moment, nothing else mattered


	5. Chapter 5

Reclaiming his Heart - Chapter 5

For the first time since his arrival at Kellynch Hall Captain Wentworth felt constricted by his new dwellings. The lure of familiar sea air offered to solve all calamities if his lungs could only have their fill. The memory of the outing following his revelation was a blur, indeed every moment from then till now, could not be recollected. Save one. _A whisper of suggestion, an invitation and its acceptance, the touch of her gloved hand in his, the lightness of her frame as he lifted her in to the carriage, and the look she had given him from her perch. What had her eyes been trying to say? Thank you? I am sorry? Or I Love you? _

The final discovery of the evening came as he finally escaped the house for the lane, anything to get away from the memories, such as a certain room he would do anything to avoid. He had been wrong about her. Well not entirely, to many of his opinions of Miss Anne Elliot, Wentworth had not deviated. But in his pain he had never granted that she might still harbor feelings for him. He had always assumed that when she was set upon by those who should have steered her to happiness, that those feelings had been lost. That she had not only given up his affection but hers as well.

_Even after all this time. _

Wentworth was not an impulsive man, impulsive men did not survive in the navy for long, so as he hastily penned a note to his sister and the Admiral explaining that he had decided to visit an old friend, he reasoned he was very much not himself. The only purpose he could conjure was a return to the part of the life he had so recently left behind. The companionship of other naval men and the proximity Lyme offered to the sea was too appealing to bow to reason. He needed time, to think, and decide just what to make of Miss Anne Elliot.

**Author's Note - Sorry it is so short, but I wanted to finish the scene with his departure, thank you all for the reviews it was 100% what got me writing again. I am sorry these are a little rough it is hard to slip back in to the style. Enjoy! - GS**


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